


Ennui

by Jagopolis



Series: a bouquet of candytuft and zinnia [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: ? maybe, Apathy talk, Character Study, Does this qualify as, M/M, Mildly Suggestive Content, POV Second Person, Undressing, Unrequited Love, but fear not nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23129560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jagopolis/pseuds/Jagopolis
Summary: ennui/ɒnˈwiː/nounA feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement.--Servant's dreams are too grand, as always. You don't care.
Relationships: Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito (one-sided)
Series: a bouquet of candytuft and zinnia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847659
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Ennui

“Do you feel anything?”

You have been asked this question a countless amount of times, by a countless amount of people. By the researchers, keen to know how well their experiment was performing. By visitors, interested in your limitless potential. By people you’ve come to call your ‘team’ out of nothing more than boredom, fascinated by your distant attitude, so unlike the other Remnants.

But no matter who asked, the answer always remained the same. Short, precise and on point, just like you prefer it. Given out with no additional explanations and no regard as to the emotions it will cause.

“No.”

Some tried questioning you further, but you never bothered to stay long enough to hear their meaningless, boring tirade.

Then, imagine how great your lack of interest was when this person told you they wish to change the predictable answer.

“What are you doing?” your voice as hollow as always. Your pristine jacket on the floor.

“You told me once you can’t feel anything. Ah, I may be selfish, but I wish to be the one who changes that.” his voice lanced with emotions so thick and heavy you could feel them against your cold skin. His warm breath against your neck, the chain clacking quietly with his every move.

You did not stop him. Yet.

After taking care of the jacket, his hands moved back up, to your tie. It soon joined the other piece of clothing.

You did not stop him. Yet.

Then, he started working his way down your shirt, each button being undone one by one with a level of care and focus you’ve never seen on his face. To your mild surprise, he didn’t take it off, opting instead for leaving it on your shoulders.

And as his fingers traced first along your neck, then your chest, pulling you closer, fingers running through your hair as he pressed his lips against yours, desperately trying to make you kiss him back, you feel. . . 

Nothing. Bored. Disappointed.

So you stopped this formulaic display of ‘love’ and ‘affection’, in your mind these sensations being but a chemical reaction. A light push, then you wordlessly picked up your scattered clothes and began putting them back on.

He stood there, stunned into silence, frozen. As if you were still in his arms, as if his petty attempt brought him success. You can see the confusion, followed by despair rising in his eyes to cloud the world before him.

Remnants thrived off despair. So you weren’t particularly worried. But you stayed. To make your appearance perfect again. To watch the routine spectacle.

He started laughing. At first quietly, the chuckles sounding almost like sobs of great pain. Then louder. Then louder. Then downright hysterical. His nails were digging into his own scalp, pain further fueling his insane episode.

“Ah, of course! How could I’ve been so blind?! A lowly servant like me could never help the Ultimate Hope! Let alone make him feel!”

“Correct.” you added, throwing another log into the flame.

“But I hoped! I almost died just before, that was bad luck! This is the time for good luck, and I hoped-”

“Hope cannot revert multiple brain surgeries, Komaeda.” and then, you left the Servant to his painfully common breakdown.

When Hajime Hinata remembered that line, as he hugged his friends for what may as well be a final time, as the program crumbled around him, he chuckled.

Yeah, maybe hope can’t fix brain surgeries. But fuck that guy, am I right?

Kazuichi and Sonia yelled their goodbyes, their avatars dissolving into the white void that seemed to overtake all. Fuyuhiko and Akane went for a final fist bump, before disintegrating. Hajime closed his eyes.

Yeah, fuck that guy.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of an essay, I regret everything, feel free to harass me on https://jagopolis.tumblr.com/


End file.
